Hi folks. Please enjoy this short story. I’ve had the idea for a little while now, and am quite pleased with how it turned out! If you like it, I might write a sequel at some point. Please do let me know what you think! Here goes…
ORDE: Sacrifice Play
“It’s your move, Orde,” said Toa Naru. “Unless you’d like to give up?”
Toa Orde took a deep breath, and suppressed the urge to smash the ledo board into a thousand pieces. He just knew Naru was smiling behind her Kanohi. “You know, I could just read your mind.”
Naru tapped her Komau. “And I could just force you to throw the game, brother. But where’s the fun in that?”
Grumbling something about his mental fortitude, Orde considered the state of play. He had nine stones on the board to Naru’s eight — a material advantage. However, Naru’s pieces were better placed, more likely to form a straight line and win her the game.
Unless… Orde’s eyes narrowed as he spotted an outlying piece towards the centre of the board. Without hesitation, he grabbed his closest stone and placed it on an adjacent tile.
“Just one more turn until I claim that piece, sister.” Orde chuckled darkly. “Unless you’d like to move it and ruin your nice, straight line?”
To Orde’s surprise, Naru moved another of her pieces six tiles up, claiming his stone and forming a perfectly straight line across the ledo board. Orde did a double take… then glowered.
Seeing the darkness in his eyes, Naru shrugged. “Aggression is predictable, Orde. To win ledo, you must give and take as the sea does. You must cast your pieces out to the waves, and have faith that the tide will return them to you.”
Orde’s hands were curled into fists, but he kept his cool. “Sacrifice my pieces and hope for later rescue? What kind of a plan is that?”
“Sometimes,” said Naru, “the only plan that works.”
Rolling his eyes, Orde got to his feet and looked out at the desolate, nighttime landscape of the Tren Krom Peninsular. He and Naru had spent weeks stationed here, guarding a caravan of travelling Matoran workers. The dozen or so Matoran were traversing the jagged peaks to perform research on the region’s many acid falls, something about developing a new corrosive for use on the Fields of Construction in Po-Metru. Orde huffed. The Peninsular was brimming with active volcanoes, razor-sharp geological formations, sheer drops, and countless aggressive Rahi. Orde and Naru had already had to blast a swarm of Nui-Rama out of the skies, and there would likely be more.
“Brother…” said Naru, who was folding away the ledo board at Orde’s feet. “Do you think it will be long before we return to Metru Nui? I would like to take you to the Protodermis Falls in Ga-Metru. It is a peaceful place. Somewhere one can… relax, and find the peace they need.”
“I’m fine,” Orde snapped. Suddenly remembering that the Matoran workers slept in tents just a few bio away, he lowered his voice. “And I definitely don’t need a trip to that overblown—“
Naru was already on her feet. In a flash, her Water Broadsword was in her hand. Her eyes narrowed. She asked: “Where?”
“To the east,” replied Orde. “Several minds. Not Rahi.”
“Dark Hunters."
Seeker hated springing ambushes.
It was all well and good when he was alone. When he was free to stake out a location, unnerve his target, and strike when ready. What he did not appreciate was being made to work with hangers-on like Wrecker and Splice — two-bit thugs who would stab him in the back for a handful of Widgets.
The fools had already slowed Seeker down. Whenever and wherever they spotted Rahi, Wrecker and Splice would stop for a quick slaughter. It disgusted Seeker that he — a one-time servant of the Brotherhood of Makuta and guardian of the Mask of Light — should be assigned to work with such ruffians. Then again, he was beginning to suspect that the Shadowed One had a sense of humour about these things.
Someone had paid for the killing of a group of Matoran researchers working along the western coast of the Tren Krom Peninsular, and Seeker did not intend to disappoint his master. If that meant carrying Wrecker and Splice, then so be it… but Seeker was beginning to contemplate what a tragedy it would be if an unfortunate accident were to befall his companions.
Eventually, they reached the site of the Matoran encampment.
“Flank them,” hissed Seeker, suppressing a smile as his comrades complied. It would be easier to murder them if they were apart.
Wrecker was not, by nature, a quiet being, but he did his utmost to approach the Matoran tents stealthily. He could not believe that Seeker had taken such caution over a bunch of—
Suddenly, Wrecker froze. He found that he could no longer move, no matter how hard he tried. His vision blurred, and in his mind’s eye, he saw a Toa of Water. She walked towards him in the haze, her green eyes blazing bright. And when she spoke, Wrecker found himself very, very tired. More tired than he had ever been. So tired, that he had to close his eyes… just for a moment.
Keeping low to the ground, Splice approached the camp from the north. He readied his Energy Crossbow, and took aim at one of the tents, ready to delight in the screams of helpless Matoran.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
Splice turned, still crouched, searching for the source of the voice. The Dark Hunter was thrown to the ground as an unseen blow shattered his crossbow from the shadows. Splice desperately reached for the dagger at his waist, but wisely stopped when he felt a weapon at his throat.
“I wouldn’t do that, either.”
As if by magic, a Toa of Psionics materialised in the space above Splice. The brutish, hunched figure wielded a cruel-looking mace, and wore the Kanohi Huna… the Great Mask of Concealment. Splice looked into the malevolent, rage-filled eyes of the Toa holding him at weapon-point.
And for the first time in a thousand years, felt fear.
As the two Toa approached him, Seeker grinned. He tightened his grip around his seismic staff, and bowed at the neck.
“Noble Toa,” he breathed. “I have been looking forward to this. I regret, of course, that you are outnumbered.”
“Not quite,” said Orde, as he raised his mace in the darkness. “Your skinny friend thinks he’s a Fikou.”
“And the larger one is taking a nap,” added Naru.
Seeker cocked his head to one side. “Oh? Whatever made you think I spoke of them?”
From the darkness, as though rising from the stony ground of the Tren Krom Peninsular, emerged Dark Hunters. A small army of them, too many to count, all clad in burnished armour and wielding deadly weapons. They moved forward, inching towards the camp and its Matoran inhabitants — innocent beings who still slept, unaware of the danger that lurked beyond.
On instinct, Orde held his mace in a defensive stance, and stepped in front of Naru. “Go,” he whispered. “See to the Matoran. I will keep this scum at bay.”
“Orde, there has to be another way. Perhaps we—”
“There is no time to argue.” Orde thought of their ledo game. Had that really only been minutes ago? "To win this fight, we must give and take as the sea does. I will cast myself out upon the waves… and have faith that the tide will return me to you.”
Sadness welled in Nahu’s eyes, but she nodded. And as the Dark Hunters descended, she turned and ran towards the camp.
Orde heard her rousing the workers, shouting orders as the mercenaries drew closer. He smiled, closed his eyes, reached deep within himself…
And released a Nova Blast of Psionic Energy.
When Seeker came to hours later, he was displeased. Mainly because the Matoran had escaped, but also because those irritating fools — Wrecker and Splice — had somehow survived the Psionic Toa’s Nova Blast in their highly weakened states. Inwardly, Seeker cursed the Toa Code, and all who followed it.
The other Dark Hunters were beginning to reawaken now. The mental shock of such Psionic power would have burned out any lesser being, but the Shadowed One only took on the toughest of the tough. That even went for Wrecker and Splice, morons though they were.
To his amusement, Seeker noticed that the blue and gold-clad Toa lay unconscious within a semi-circle of Dark Hunters. Sensing an opportunity, he scurried on all four legs across the black stone and scooped the Toa up into his enormous claws. The Matoran had escaped… but Seeker would not be seen to return empty-handed. A Toa prisoner, one who had taken out a small legion of mercenaries, would win Seeker respect among the Dark Hunters… and favour from his master.
“Wake up, dolts!” called Seeker, raising the Toa over his head. “While you fools were resting, I fought and captured this Toa. Now, let us return to Odina. So that I might present him to the Shadowed One.”